Excerpt 1
I’ve learned to live life with my head down, spend my days in the family home living off the income from the bar I inherited from my brother.

When I first got out, I wanted to start fresh. To make up for my sins. To clean up my mess of a life. But that’s the thing about making very public blunders in a small town like Belleville—people never forget. Especially when stupid mistakes become a part of your family legacy. With a name like Turner, I couldn’t even get an interview, let alone a job. And having set up a trust fund for my kids with the money from my music days, I had no choice but to accept my brother’s offer—part owner of a bar I rarely set foot in.

With one glance at the keypad, I register the glowing M button and lean my head up against the back wall of the elevator, ignoring the one other person inside, not even glancing in their direction.

After today’s visit, I’m in serious need of a drink.

Rowan pretty much told me I was out of time, that by the end of next week my mother likely won’t be breathing on her own. She’s had an inoperable brain tumor for years. I don’t know how he managed to keep her alive all this time, or why he even cared enough to. All I know is that if a fucking angel doesn’t fall into my lap in the next few days, my quest to save the woman who gave me life is over for good.

A hand rests on my shoulder, and I shake it off. I straighten and turn, ready to defend myself, but instantly relax once I see the girl standing next to me. Her hands are held out in front of her, her brow wrinkled as she shrinks back.

I lower my fist, quickly flipping the switch from defensive to sympathetic.

“Coco.” I shove my hands into my jacket pockets. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t…see you there. I—”

“Do you always attack random people in elevators?” she asks, with a hint of a smile.

“Uh.” I shake my head. “No, it’s just…you caught me off guard is all.”

That and practically every physical confrontation I’ve had over the past few years has resulted in a bloody nose or a black eye.

“I didn’t see you.”

“Sorry for scaring you. I said ‘hi’ when you walked in, but it’s like you were in another world.” She smiles a little wider, then leans forward, climbing to her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around my neck. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you?”

“Fine.” I stiffly pat her back. “I’m good. And you?”

“I’m good.” She sniffs, nodding a little too vigorously to be convincing. The rims of her eyes and the tip of her nose are a slowly fading red.

My muscles instantly tighten, and I take a small step back. “What are you doing here?”

This is why I hate fucking hospitals. This. Sickness. Sadness. Death.

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. Doctor’s appointment.” 

“Oh, cool,” I reply, mostly to myself.

“You?”

I clear my throat. “Same.”

She licks her lips and folds her arms against her chest, hunching over a little.

“It’s been a while,” I say. “Didn’t think you were even still in Belleville.”

“I was in Vancouver for a few months. I go back and forth between Toronto for work. And when I’m in town I’m usually at Ian’s.”

“Ian Cross?” I raise an eyebrow.

She nods, ducking her head.

That’s still happening? What are the chances?

“I’m staying at the house this summer though. If I recall, you’re the one playing the disappearing act.” She smiles. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

The elevator slows and I let out a soft sigh. “Mostly keep to myself these days.”

“You look good. Different, but good. More grown up, I guess.”

My gaze travels from her face down the length of her body.

I’m not the only one.

This definitely isn’t the Collette Rose I remember. She’s filled out a little—no more chicken legs and flat chest. Her brown legs are taut and shapely. Even her hair is different. It’s darker now. Almost jet black. Her kinky curls are gone now too. The silky, waves flowing out from beneath the hat look fine, I guess. But definitely not as memorable. Her face still looks the same though, just a little less round and more defined. She’s grown into herself. No longer the girl next door. And it shows.

 

Excerpt 2
My gaze snaps up to his and the way he’s watching me— eyes traveling from head to toe and lingering from the neck down, suddenly makes me self-conscious. Still in my ankle- length black cotton nighty, with no bra and underwear, I can’t imagine what I look like. I sit back a little, doing my best to avoid the moonlight.

“No,” I reply. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He chuckles. “Story of my life. Insomnia sucks. Especially when you’ve got loud neighbors.” 

I catch the mischievous curl of his lips, just before he brings the bottle to his mouth again. Speaking of…

“What happened the other night?” I ask, quietly. “You kind of…snapped.”

He shrugs and takes another long sip. He looks guilty and I suddenly feel terrible for bringing it up. He said he and Ian had patched things up. Maybe I should just leave it alone. But I can’t help but wonder what got into him. Why he is the way he is. After years of being a bystander, why is he, all of a sudden, the instigator?

“Seemed like things were getting a little out of control,” he finally says. “Thought I’d lend a hand.”

Of course. Because that’s the kind of guy Shane is—at least the guy I used to know. Even if he did handle it badly.

I fiddle with my own bottle, chewing on my bottom lip. “Well, thanks. I guess. It was nice of you.”

Shane nods but doesn’t look at me. He stares off into the distance and, for the first time, I notice the permanent scowl on his face. Almost like Ian’s—the grimace everyone else sees, but I don’t really notice anymore.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Shane’s dull gaze meets mine, almost like he’s only just noticed my presence and he asks, “What?”

“Are you doing alright? With…everything?”

He blinks then takes another swig. “Are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure about that? Dating the world’s biggest asshole and all?”

I sigh and place my beer down beside me, before making steady eye contact. “What happens between Ian and me is my business, Shane. And while I appreciate you coming to my rescue or whatever, I was perfectly fine. I had it…handled.”

He laughs. “Sure.” 

The way he says it, like I’m a child, pisses me off.

“I didn’t need your help,” I cross my arms over my chest.

He rolls his eyes. “Ian isn’t just an asshole, he’s Grade-A. He intimidates to get what he wants, treats most people like shit—especially women. He’s only ever happy when he’s on that stage.”

“He’s happy with me,” I respond with as much snark as I can muster.

The way he’s judging me, my boyfriend, my relationship doesn’t sit right with me at all. I don’t know Shane like I used to, but he doesn’t know me either.

Shane scoffs. “I don’t see how.”

I sit back doing my best not to react, but it’s too late. I close my mouth and swallow hard.

“That’s not what I meant.” Shane rubs his forehead. “Not you, Coco. Him. He’s not an easy guy to be around. I meant I just don’t know how you’re happy with him.”

“Well, I am. And I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

He laughs, lightly. “You’re probably right. I’m sorry. But in the future, when you guys get into it, do you mind taking it inside? At least try not to disturb the peace?” He smiles, one that’s semi-familiar.

Well at least he’s good with apologies. And still as witty as ever.

I allow my shoulders to drop, before picking up my beer, tipping the bottle to my mouth, and leaning back on the bench. I cross my legs in front of me and glance up at the starlit sky.

I angle my head toward him, just as he side glances me.

“So,” he says. “You’re just going to hang out here, uninvited huh? Now there’s the Coco Puffs I know.”

“You invited me!” I snicker before taking another sip. “I haven’t heard that nickname in years.”

“You were like a fucking leech when you were little. Never went away. Used to drive Cole and Jared crazy.”

“You didn’t seem to mind,” I say.

“Younger siblings unite.” He clinks his bottle to mine with a soft chuckle.

“So,” I ask, my gaze stuck to the wood panels beneath us. “What’s up with you these days? You say Ian is Grade-A, but I thought you were going to kill him the other night.”

I don’t know why I bother to bring it up again, maybe because things finally feel normal for once. I recognize a piece of the old Shane Turner.

He shrugs. “Just don’t like being intimidated. Or watching other people get bullied.”

Our gazes meet and I nod slowly. “I really was okay, Shane.”

“That happen a lot? He yell at you often? Handle you…like that?”

“It’s complicated.” I swig my beer, then bring my knees to my chest.

“There’s nothing complicated about the way he was in your face like that. That shit’s not cool. You’re his girlfriend. He should have a little more respect.”

He’s probably right but, at the same, time I probably shouldn’t be discussing my love life with my neighbor—no matter how close we used to be—when my boyfriend is in the bed next door.

I sigh, deciding to let the subject drop for good.

“Thanks anyway,” I say. “It was nice of you to come to my rescue like that. Even if you were borderline psycho when you did.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Puffs. Any chance I get to put Ian Cross in his place is a moment well spent.”